


krodh

by AllegoriesInMediasRes



Series: Mahabharata fics [15]
Category: Mahabharata - Vyasa
Genre: Canon Compliant, Female Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/pseuds/AllegoriesInMediasRes
Summary: Satyabhama is not the only Queen of Dwaraka to visit Draupadi in exile, and their talks are not all of stridharma. All the world knows of the Empress of Indraprastha’s rage, but few know of how even she threatens to buckle under the weight of it, and it is these moments of weakness that she confesses to Rukmini.krodh (Hindi): rage





	krodh

Satyabhama is not the only Queen of Dwaraka to visit Draupadi in exile, and their talks are not all of  _ stridharma _ and married women’s duties. All the world knows of the Empress of Indraprastha’s rage, but few know of how even she threatens to buckle under the weight of it, and it is these moments of weakness that she confesses to Rukmini.

“My eldest husband has been preoccupied with the story of Sita of late,” Draupadi says. “Namely of how she always kept her calm about her, and never let despair or anger weigh her down, even in the garden and surrounded by demonesses.” 

She runs a hand almost unconsciously over the bark of the ashok tree whose shade they are sitting in, as though imagining Sita sitting under the very same tree. Rukmini gently stills her wandering fingers with her own. “Does Yudhisthira intend it as a parable?”

A lesser woman would snort. Even in exile, Draupadi does not snort, but she allows herself a bitter smile. “With him, who knows what to expect?”

“Whatever he intends, let me tell you that no woman is immune to anger. If it is so decried by our scriptures and our menfolk, it is only because they fear what our anger might force them to confront.”

The ashok tree shields them from the sun’s rays but not its heat, and sweat beads up on Panchaali’s forehead. Unthinkingly, Rukmini wipes it away with the edge of her shawl. She leans closer into the older woman’s touch, closing her eyes.

“But surely a woman like me -- a woman sprung from fire, not a mortal human womb -- surely women like us are held to a higher standard? The one that Sita set? That is the sticking point, that fills my mind with torment as if I did not have enough of it already. I can hardly believe she lived her life without grudge or grievance.”

“Oh, she was certainly angry,” Rukmini speaks without realizing it, until the words have already left her lips. “She had it in spades -- in Lanka, in the forest, wherever she went. She remained angry all her life, until it consumed her in the end.”

How is she so sure? It is not memory but -- speculation? Fellow-feeling? -- that is responsible for the conviction in her voice. Rukmini is unsettled, that she does not know her own heart, and she is glad that Draupadi seems not to notice her conflict, only asking: “Was her rage enough that the world quaked before it?”

“It was.”

Draupadi nods. “Then that will have to be enough for me.”

_ Leave ended tragedies of the past in the past where they belong. _ If Draupadi is satisfied, then Rukmini is satisfied, and she puts it from her mind.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [samsarga](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17416634) by [AllegoriesInMediasRes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/pseuds/AllegoriesInMediasRes)




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